


Vanya is tired and in need of cuddles

by QuirkCirc



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Dysfunctional Family, Family Fluff, Gen, Good Brother Diego Hargreeves, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I just love vanya okay?, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, No Incest, Platonic Cuddling, Post- Time Travel, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Self-Indulgent, Sharing a Bed, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Love, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Vanya Hargreeves Needs A Hug, her siblings are trying, soft bois are soft, they all need hugs tbh, well not anymore than what's already present
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2019-11-26 16:12:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18182837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuirkCirc/pseuds/QuirkCirc
Summary: Vanya is always tired. It’s something she’d learned to accept as the years passed by and that bone-weary exhaustion ceased to leave. She’s tired, even more so after finding out that her father had lied to her for years, starting the apocalypse (thus killing everyone on the planet), and then being flung back into her thirteen-year-old body.She wants nothing more than to lay down and sleep for a few thousand years. Well, almost. She’d like it even more if her siblings would stop skittering around her like she was some kind of bomb or-Oh. Right. She is. A bomb that is. A very, sleep-deprived bomb.“Scoot over,” Vanya demands sleepily.“Vanya?” Her brother questions incredulously, eyes wide as Vanya nudges him over and climbs in.“G’night.” The girl mumbles and wraps herself in his blankets.“Vanya?” Ben tries again. “Vanya?”A soft snore is his only reply._Or, the six times Vanya goes on the hunt for cuddles and the one time she doesn’t have to.





	1. Vanya has a Secret

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Erik](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erik/gifts).



> My insomnia has been really bad as of lates and Erik's been riding my ass for me to write him something.  
> So, uh, here ya go. Enjoy or whatever.  
> Erik’s Prompt: “…write a fic where Vanya cuddles with her bros (and sista from another mista). I want fluff, blanket stealing, maybe awk [CENSORED], and feels, the whole shebang. And I wanted it yesterday.”

Vanya had a secret. It was something she’d kept to herself for years and she had planned on taking it to her grave. No, it wasn’t some nefarious scandal; It wasn’t some weird fetish nor was she in the closet. It was rather boring, as far as secrets go, which was fine with her. It was fitting, really- a boring secret for an equally boring person.

Her secret? Vanya loved to cuddle.

Whether it be her blankets, a pillow, or an actual person. (Although she could count on one hand how many people she cuddled with and still have fingers left over.)  
It wasn’t the juiciest of secrets, certainly nothing to gossip over, but it was hers.

And it would have remained at the back of her mind in a little box labeled ‘ _miscellaneous facts about me_ ’ if she had chosen to stay at the Academy.

But Vanya didn’t and had left in a flurry of conflicting emotions- _relief, insecurity, joy, resentment, fear, hope._

Vanya couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a good night’s rest. When she did manage to sleep she always awoke tired, no matter if she had slept for two or even ten hours- it was always the same result.

Vanya had spent her the first three years away from her family tossing and turning and pacing so much to the point that her downstairs neighbors had put in a complaint with the management. Under the threat of eviction, Vanya had resorted to more healthy, _quiet_ coping mechanisms such as reading, cleaning, drinking tea, or polishing her violin. Anything to keep her hands and mind busy because the minute they began to idle there was no amount of medication that could numb the pain her thoughts brought forth.

Thoughts of how utterly _alone_ she was.

You’d think after all of these years she’d be used to it- the solitude.

But Vanya doesn’t like to let the fact that’s she’s lonely drag her down (well more than it already does, that is), it’s just at night it becomes painfully obvious how lonely she is. There’s no cashier to blandly wish her a good day, no neighbors to make awkward small-talk with, no co-workers for her to chat about music with- no one.  
It was just her and her sad, little empty apartment. A perfect mirror image of herself, if she does say so.

Vanya hates it.

At least when she’d lived in the academy there was always somebody there. Some type of noise. Whether it be Klaus’ maniacal laughter, Luther and Diego hashing it out, or Grace humming as goes about her chores.

Sometimes she misses it. And other times she loathes it, that she should miss it when she’d waited so long to free of  _that_ place, of her father’s hold on her. She doesn’t want to miss it ~~but she does, she can’t help it~~.

Once she’d left the mansion it was just her and her alone against the world. No mom, no siblings, no Pogo, certainly not her dad- nobody. And the world was a capricious bitch, determined to point out how pathetically alone she was at every turn.

Vanya hadn't had a good night’s rest since moving out. And when she did manage to sleep she always awoke tired, no matter if she had slept for two or even ten hours; it was always the same result- _tired tired tired tiredtired whycan'tIsleep?_

And so it was after yet another restless night that Vanya had discovered a second layer to her secret.

  
Sometimes when she couldn’t sleep and she’d run out of things to do, Vanya would start up a fire. (No she wasn't some pyromaniac like  ~~Klaus~~ somebody.) Sitting there in front of the warmth of the fire had always worked to soothe her like a good cup of tea or her music.

It was one night, after another crappy day, that Vanya had fallen asleep. Cocooned in the fire’s warmth Vanya closed her eyes, comforted by the heat because just for a moment she didn’t quite feel so alone anymore.

And so Vanya made a habit of it.

She pushed her couch as close as to the fireplace as she could without the ratty thing catching on fire, cuddling deep into her plushiest pillow with a sigh. Now it was the only way she could fall asleep now without some type of medication.

If Vanya closed her eyes and tried her hardest, she could pretend that it wasn’t her fireplace but an actual, _real live_ person next to her. The heat chasing away the chill that had enveloped her heart. It was nice. Even if it wasn’t real. But dreams and secrets are funny like that aren’t they?


	2. Click!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luther thinks too much (surprise, surprise), Allison is fed up. Vanya gets hurt, and cute pics are taken.

“Goodnight, honey,” Grace said sweetly. She reached down and smoothed back his hair. Luther found himself leaning into her touch. If there was one good thing about being stuck in the past it had to be Mom. Even if he was technically too old to be coddled. Not that that had ever stopped her.

“Goodnight, mom.” He said back. Her smile softened and she gently stroked his cheek. Luther smiled back shakily. Guilt, a reoccurring companion, settled atop his chest, making it a little harder to breathe.

How could he have accused Mom of killing their father? It’d made sense in a time where very little did. Pogo had even admitted that their father had planted the evidence himself. It was only logical he would come to that conclusion.

But now when he thought back on it, it left a nasty taste in his mouth.

Luther’s smile dropped when Mom got up, tucking him in one last time before leaving the room.

The door closed with a soft _click._

He’d been doing that a lot lately: looking back and regretting certain choices and actions he’d taken. Especially since they’d gone back in time. Five had been adamant that they act ‘natural’. They couldn’t risk Reginald or the Commission finding them before they were ready.

Luther frowned and turned on his side so he was facing the door.

Even so, it was hard for the others and even himself to fall back into their childhood routines. Luther hadn’t lived under his father in four years but for the others, it had been much _much_  longer.

He was positive that their father had at least an inkling that something wasn’t right. What with Klaus’ unique (well, normal for the Klaus of the future) brand of crazy, Luther miscalculating how short his limbs were now when he threw punches, and their seemingly sudden lack of obedience. Sure, they still attended their school lessons, went on missions, and participated in training; but it was the small rebellions that caught their father’s attention. Things like oversleeping and showing up late for breakfast. Or their half-hearted efforts as they ran laps and mock-missions. Not to mention all the pranks Klaus and Ben ( _oh god how'd he missed him _)__  got up to in their free time. They’d toned it down after Mom had to spend a whole day scrubbing green goo off the living room furniture and Diego had yelled at them.

But what really stoked their father’s ire was their sudden _lack_ of disinterest in the smallest Hargreeves.

Luther swallowed and laid on his back. He stared at his model airplane and frowned.

_Vanya._

Now that was whole other can of worms.

His feelings were…complicated, to say the least.

Allison had already forgiven Vanya for the whole throat-slitting fiasco, insisting that it had been her fault her too. His other siblings were already on their way to mending the gaps between his sister and them. It was slow going at first, every single one of them wary and downright fearful of their sister. Until Allison had all but pulled them by the ear and given them a stern lecture. She had hunted them all down before dinner and demanded a family meeting with the exception of Vanya. (Not because she wasn’t family, but because _she_  was the subject being talked about and it'd be awkward for her to be there.)

“We’re supposed to be _helping_ Vanya this time around. And what are you jerks doing?” she waved her arms at them, “ _Nothing._ That’s what.”

Luther looked down guiltily. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw his brothers do the same.

Allison turned to Five, brown eyes appearing almost red in the sunlight streaming from the open windows.

“And _you _,__ I expected more from you, Five.”

Said time-traveling assassin looked startled, or as startled as he allowed himself to look, eyes a little wider than usual. The fire in her eyes died down, doused by melancholy. “You said we were going to fix Vanya.”

Five cleared his throat.

“We are.”

Allison raised an eyebrow at that. Five looked down, hands fisting his academy shorts. Allison nodded to herself and placed her hands on her hips, staring them all down.

Luther ducked his head when her gaze landed on him. He felt more than saw her look away.

“So why do I feel like the only one who’s getting shit done?”

“How are we sup-pposed her fix her, huh?” Diego spoke up, glaring daggers at their sister. “She isn’t some b-b-broken toy we can just super glue back together.”

Allison wasn’t taking any of Diego’s crap today going by the way her mouth thinned into a straight line and her nostrils flared.

“We can start with you not _snapping_  at her every time she opens her mouth.”

Diego frowned, “I don’t.”

Klaus spoke up from he was sitting on the coffee table.

“Uh, you kinda do.”

Ben nodded.

Diego was about to argue with them when Allison gave him a look. It was similar to the one she had given Five but…sadder.

“I remember when we were little before,” she waved in her hand, gesturing around them, “ _everything_ started. Youtwo used to be really close.”

Luther nodded, “I remember that too.” A fuzzy memory of Diego and Vanya crouching in the grass and picking flowers came to mind.

“So what if we were?” Diego growled defensively. His crossed his arms and turned away. “B-Besides, that was a long time ago.”

Allison sighed and looked up. She prayed to any deity willing enough to listen to lend her the patience needed to deal with her emotionally-stunted brother.

"That's how," Allison explained.

"What's that s-supposed to mean?"

“What it means,” Five cut in, “is that’s where you can start.”

Diego frowned, but remained quiet, leaning back in the couch and mulling over their words.

Luther watched him.

He wondered where he could start- if there was even a place to begin at.

The meeting adjourned when Grace came to call them in for dinner. Luther remembered sitting at the table, his mind going over Allison’s words. She was right. They needed to step up and work together. Not at as a team, but as a family.

Luther stuffed a spoonful of mashed potatoes in his mouth. He glanced at Vanya. She was looking quizzically between the extra biscuit in her hand and then at Diego who was glaring down at his plate. Luther squinted and leaned closer.

His brother was looking at his carrots as if the vegetable had personally insulted their mom. It was a little hard to see his face but the bright red coloring his cheeks was unmistakable.

Diego was blushing.

Luther blinked.

Why was he blushing? He turned to Allison, she _never_  missed anything, and saw her trying to fight off a grin, sneaking glances between the two.

Luther swallowed his food. He’d ask Allison about it later.

 

* * *

 

 

Luther had no idea what to do about Vanya. Thus, why he was currently tossing and turning, his mind unable to settle until he reached a solution that was not going to present itself anytime soon.

Luther couldn’t forgive her so easily as Allison had. The fear that had gripped his heart the night he’d found Allison bleeding out on the quaint cabin’s floor wasn’t one that was going away any time soon. It resurfaced every time Vanya lost focus and her powers lashed out, snapping a stray tree in half or shattering a window. He couldn’t stop the cold sensation that crept up his spine and whispered horrible things like _what if she loses control again? What if she really kills Allison this time? Or Ben, his other brothers? The whole block? All those innocent lives lost because of **her**._

Not to mention he doesn’t he possess the same foundations that Diego and Five have nor is he as easy-going and friendly as Ben and Klaus.

Luther sighed and turned over yet again, the bed creaking loudly in the silence.

The problem wasn’t so much forgiving Vanya as it forgiving his own inabilities.

Although Vanya’s actions in the future that they had escaped from were horrible- she’d almost killed Allison, _killed_  both Pogo and Mom (albeit, Mom had been more like collateral damage), and obliterated all life on earth- it was still understandable. Justifiable, even.

It wasn’t something born out of malice or something equally villainous. It was the result of years of neglect, dismissive looks, and callous words- _you’re just ordinary, there’s nothing special about you _-__  that had accumulated over a lifetime of being treated like you were worth less than the dirt on everybody's shoes.

Yes, their father had set the precedent and had even encouraged their mistreatment. That’s how they’d been taught and brought up to behave. It was only after the whole apocalypse drama that Luther had realized that their father had made more than a handful of questionable decisions. And discarding Vanya like a failed experiment ~~like he’d been~~ was probably Sir Reginald’s greatest error.

As adults, it was harder for his siblings to blame everything on their dad when, ultimately, it was their own fault.

Luther had tried to convince himself that he’d been on the moon, literally not on the same planet as Vanya, to connect with her, but that was just a sorry excuse. He hadn’t always been on the moon. He’d wasted all those years being their father’s _perfect soldier_ instead of reaching out to everybody else. Because in the end, their father had taught them all how to function as a team, but never as a family.

Luther sighed again (Klaus was going to tease for acting like an old man [or like Five] if he kept that up).

Oh well, there’s no better time like the present (past??) to start learning.

When they’d first come back, squished together in Vanya’s tiny room, it had been a simple, unanimous decision. They would do right by Vanya this time around.

Luther winced, remembering how they’d treated her. It hurt now that he thought back on it. How they’d mistreated her for __years.__ Always acting as if she were less than a person, disregarding her opinions, and never bothering to get to know her because she was just _ordinary. What could she offer them?  
_

Luther grit his teeth, clenching his fists, too engrossed in his thoughts to register to light footsteps just outside his door.

It’d been a week since Allison’s ‘pep talk’, but he could tell everybody had been trying their hardest to show how much they loved Vanya (they always have but rarely showed it because they were all emotionally stunted wrecks) by including in her in everything they did.

Klaus and Allison would routinely rope Vanya into their girl’s night shenanigans, Five was always sneaking Vanya out of the house on ‘field trips’ now that he could teleport more than just himself (so far he could take one person without toppling over), Ben had roped Vanya into a movie marathon (they were on the Godfather series now), and Diego…

The door to his bedroom slowly opened.

Luther frowned. Well, to be honest, he wasn’t sure what those two got up two. He’d have been more worried if he hadn’t caught them stuffing their faces with Mom’s cookies and giggling. _Giggling _.__ He’d seen Vanya let out a quiet chuckle once or twice but giggling? No way…

and Diego?

Luther thought that maybe the whole jumping back in time had scrambled his brother’s brains.

As for him…Luther wasn’t sure how to approach Vanya so…he just doesn’t…

Luther, for the most part, had been avoiding her. Or at least he avoided being alone in the same room as her. He wasn’t sure what her feelings regarding him were after, well, _everything _.__ He had a feeling they weren’t very good considering she flinched every time they accidentally brushed shoulders. He was positive there had tears in her eyes that one time she had bumped into him the hall.

He’d been trying, though. Lately, he’d been visiting her room whenever he heard her playing. Luther couldn’t believe he’d never noticed it before, but powers or no powers Vanya was _special _;__ she could give the devil a run for his money with her playing _ _.__

Sadly, it had taken a lot of encouragement (she won’t hurt them, they reassure her) and careful smiles for Vanya to pick up her violin again. No one spoke up when her hands shook or commented on what looked suspiciously like tears in her eyes. All six of them had sat in her tiny room and waited politely for her to finish the piece before they showered her in praise.  

“Bravo! Our own little _virtuoso_.” Klaus crooned, throwing an arm over the girl’s trembling shoulders.

The fear that had twisted her face melted and its a place was a shy, but happy smile.

Luther remembered feeling an ache in his chest because when was the last time had he truly seen his sister smile? A real smile- open and big. Luther didn’t want to know the answer because he feared the answer was _never _.__

But their new attitude towards their sister didn't come without drawbacks. Apparently treating their sister like _their sister_ was a major offense in their father’s eyes.

Luther could sort of understand Reginald’s twisted logic. If they paid Vanya more attention then she would come to the conclusion that maybe she wasn’t quite so dull and Allison’s work would be undone and Vanya would become volatile again. Or at least Luther thought that could be his dad’s reasoning _because to think otherwise would imply that Reginald had purposely brought down Vanya until she was little more than an empty shell of a person._

Luther was just too tired to think too much on that. He left that train of thought for the him of tomorrow.

Alas, every crime had its punishment and their father was a meticulous man.

Harsher drills were concocted, free-time became even scarcer, food was now a commodity (Mom, bless her heart, often snuck them snacks), and their training sessions were quickly draining what little energy they had left.

“Luther?” A quiet voice whispered. It fell on deaf ears.

Luther’s hands were beginning to hurt with how tightly he had them clenched. And his sibling’s hard work was going down the drain because Vanya- __meek, kind Vanya-__ was slipping through their fingers like wet sand, drawing further and further back into herself because of their _father_ the stubborn bastard-

“Luther? Are you awake?”

The blonde boy was snapped out of his thoughts as the object of frustration stepped into his room.

“Vanya?”

And just like that the tables turned and it was Vanya reaching out to them- to him with a simple, mumbled, “I can’t sleep.” 

“Oh,” Luther said, at a loss for words.

Vanya’s outline shifted around and her voice less sleepy and more hesitant now.

“Do you think that maybe,” she paused and Luther waited for her continue, curious, “do you think that I…maybe I can sleep h-here?” She finished, her voice cracking near the end.

Luther blinked.

“Here?” He asked dumbly.

“Yes, if that’s okay?”

“With me?” He asked just to make sure.

A yawn. “Yes, Luther.”

The room is silent after that as Luther processed the odd request.

Vanya’s timid voice broke the silence, “It’s okay if you don’t want to- I-I didn’t mean to bother you or anything. I just thought that maybe? I don’t know.” Vanya rambled on quietly. A voice that sounds suspiciously like Allison yells at him to say something,  _anything._

Vanya took in a deep breath and let it out in one swell _swoosh._

“I’m sorry,” her figure started to retreat. “It was a stupid idea. I shouldn’t have-”

“No!” Luther interrupted a little too loudly. He winced when he saw how Vanya flinched. He felt the familiar guilt creep in but stayed quiet, listening intently in case his shout had woken anybody up.

The two spent a few tense minutes listening to the house creaking and groaning, both dreading the sound of their father’s footsteps.

Minutes ticked by and when nothing happened, Luther exhaled in relief. Vanya copied him.

“Vanya?” Luther called out carefully.

“Yes?” Vanya whispered back almost too quiet to hear. He took a deep breath. Well, he _had_ been thinking of a way of getting closer to Vanya. And sleeping together was definitely one way of doing that without too many words.

He decided to go for it.

“I don’t think it’s a stupid idea.”

“Oh. Okay.” Luther scooted over to make room for his sister as she neared his bed. He lifted up his blanket.

“Thank you.” She mumbled and slid underneath the covers.

Luther nodded in response and felt stupid when he realized Vanya couldn’t see him in the dark _because of_ course _she can’t, none of them can._ At least he’s pretty sure none of his siblings can see in the dark; he felt like one of them would have mentioned it by now if they could.

“Uh, sure.”

He could tell she was nervous. Vanya was naturally tiny and although Luther isn’t as big as he was in the future the bed was still small. What little of her that was touching him was stiff like cardboard and was she shaking? Luther tried to make her feel more comfortable because this was new to both of them. He moved further back, choosing to ignore the fact that he was one inch away from falling off of the bed. A few minutes later he felt her relax against him and Luther let out an internal sigh.

He peered down at her and sure enough, Vanya was asleep. He closed his eyes, his mind quieting down, and quickly followed after her.

 

* * *

 

Luther was surprised when this became a reoccurring event. Not that he was complaining. He’d been meaning to find a way to spend time with her that wasn’t just him sitting there silently like some golem whilst she played her violin.

They had never been particularly close. He felt bad about that, but to be fair Vanya had mostly kept to herself too. The only one who’d been remotely close to her was Five, which was shocking because Five _liked no one _.__ Except for maybe Mom, but everybody adored her so she didn’t really count. Diego and she had been close when they were little, Luther knew, but they’d quickly grown apart once their powers began to develop and Sir Reginald had increased their training.

But this was nice, Luther mused, as Vanya once again slipped into his bed.

“G’night, Luther.”

“Goodnight, Vanya,” Luther replied. Vanya simply hummed and burrowed into their shared pillow.

 

* * *

 

 

So far they’d been just laying side by side, each one careful to keep to their respective side.

But that had changed when Luther awoke one morning. He'd woken before his alarm which was weird. With bleary eyes he looked around his room. He could have sworn he heard something. A tap or maybe a click? Finding nothing out of the ordinary he looked down. He felt a smile and something alien but warm spread through his chest when he saw his sister. Vanya was still asleep, but she had her face tucked into the space between his neck and shoulder, her small hands clutching the fabric of his shirt.

Luther sighed happily and laid his chin atop her head. When his alarm finally rang Vanya was all embarrassed apologies as she extracted herself from him.

“Sorry,” she muttered, blushing. Luther smiled at her.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind.” He admitted. And he truly didn’t. he rather liked the warm feeling he got. It was nice.

Vanya returned his smile bashfully.

 

* * *

 

Three weeks later and that warm feeling he got increased tenfold whenever he looked at Vanya. Luther didn’t know what to make of it. It wasn’t the same feeling he got when he was around Allison (thank god). It was…different; softer, but no less potent.

He’d considered asking Allison but figured the girl would only make a big deal about it, squealing something about ‘the feels’ or something weird like that. And there was no way in a million years he was asking any of his brothers. Can you imagine Deigo or Five talking about feelings?

It wasn’t until an incident took place between their father and Vanya that Luther began to understand it.

It was during one of their training sessions that it had happened. Diego and Ben had been paired to spar against each other while he was pitted against Allison.

Klaus watched from sidelines with their Father and Vanya as Five was down with the flu, much to his annoyance.

Luther was engrossed in evading Allison’s kicks (because those _hurt _)__ and taking care not to hurt her too bad with his super strength when suddenly a loud, unearthly shriek echoed in the room. Luther winced and immediately clapped his hands over his ears. He looked over at Allison to find her on her knees, fingers clamped tightly over her ears.

“Diego!” Vanya’s voice shouted. And with speed he didn’t know Vanya was capable of, she sprinted past him. Luther turned around just in time to watch his sister push Diego out of the way of a bloody tentacle, a dagger sticking out of the wound.

“Get away, get away, _please_ , I-I can’t control it!” Ben was yelling, his face twisted in pain as he struggled to reign in the wayward monster’s limb.

“Vanya!” Luther shouted as he watched the tentacle continue with its original trajectory, heading right towards Vanya.

Vanya tried to leap out of the way. Sadly, she wasn’t fast enough and the creature’s limb came down hard on her leg. Vanya’s cry mingled with Ben’s in a twisted duet.

Vanya screamed as the monster dragged across her the floor, fingernails scrabbling at the ground.

The warmth he’d held towards his sister suddenly exploded, turning into a raging wildfire.

Luther scrambled over and threw himself at Vanya before the beast could suck her inside the portal. He wrapped his arms around her torso and held tight. Vanya screamed even louder as she was pulled in two directions. Diego rushed over and worked on trying to pry the tentacle off Vanya with little luck.

“It’s not w-w-working!” Diego yelled, using both his hands and knives to get the thing to let go. “B-B-Bastard won’t let go!”

Luther gritted his teeth and looked over at Ben.

“Ben!” He barked. Allison and Klaus were talking in hushed tones, trying to calm Ben and in turn, the monster. Their faces were pale and frantic, a stark contrast to their gentle words.

Ben spread his arms open wide and with a hoarse yell, the portal closed, taking the tentacle with it. Allison cried out in alarm as their brother slumped over in a dead faint.

Vanya let out a whimper and buried her head into Luther's chest. The blonde shushed her and tugged her into his lap.

“Here!” Klaus stopped beside Diego, handing him a white box with a red cross on it. Diego wasted no time in opening the box, the more experienced of the four with this kind of stuff, and began taking out medical gauze, bandages, disinfectant, and a pair of scissors from the kit. Klaus’ face paled further as he looked down at Vanya’s leg.

“Oh,” he bit his lip. “That looks really bad. Ben’s going to feel _terrible_.”

Luther craned his neck and winced. It __did__  look bad. Her knee-high socks had done little to protect her. The skin from her ankle to her knee was a bloody mess from where the creature’s suckers had nearly torn her flesh clean off.

“...not ‘is fault,” Vanya said through her tears. Luther patted her head and held her as Diego swiftly cut through her sock, removing it, so he could get to her wound. He tenderly cleaned her wounds and wrapped it, grimacing every time Vanya made a sound of pain.

“We should take her to mom,” Diego said when he finished. "Just to be s-safe."

“Number Six!” Reginald suddenly hollered. Luther blinked. He’d forgotten all about their father in the commotion.

“What help he was,” Diego muttered angrily before going back to Vanya’s leg, tucking in the bandage securely.

The man stopped in front of where Allison was cradling Ben’s limp form. When he saw that Six was out cold he scowled. His gaze quickly turned towards them.

Luther pulled Vanya closer, arms circling around her as if to shield her from their father’s sight. The heat in his body had died down, but it simmered beneath his skin like embers as their father approached.

“Number Seven,” He snapped. The girl slowly turned her head around to face Reginald. “What were you thinking? You know better than disrupt training.”

“But father,” Vanya protested weakly.

Their father’s eyes grew cold.

Luther suppressed a shiver. The fire within him flickered dangerously as the billionaire stared down Vanya.

“Foolish girl, you should know better to stick your nose in matters that do not concern someone of your _status_.”

Vanya lowered her head. Luther saw Diego’s face contort in anger.

“Now w-wait a minute-”

“Silence, Number Two.” Reginald ordered without turning to address the boy. Diego growled and stood up from his crouch.

Luther opened his mouth to stop him, but Vanya gave a whine and pressed her head against his chest.

“Oh, I am __so__  tired of this shit! Screw the consequences.”

“Hey, hey, bro.” Klaus reached out to grab to Diego’s arm, pulling him back. "Calm down."

“You're brother is right for once, Number Two. Stop this nonsense immediately.” Reginald said, sparing them a glance. Diego looked about ready to commit murder, his face was so red.

“C’mon, Diego,” Klaus pleaded, “Let’s go get mom. Vanya’s leg looked _really_ bad.” At the mention of their mom and Vanya’s injury, he seemed to cool down.

“Fine,” Diego bit out. He shook off Klaus’ hand and followed him out of the gym.

Their father ignored them. His focus was solely on Vanya.

“What you did was idiotic. You are _ordinary _,__ Number Seven.” Vanya flinched back at the word. Reginald pressed on and Luther felt that warm something begin to boil.

He stayed quiet, not willing to exacerbate the situation. Allison glared at their father’s back.

“I want you to remember this incident the next time you dare to think to be of use to the Umbrella Academy.”

"Yes, sir," Vanya said hollowly.

“...they’re in here, mother.” Klaus’ voice echoed from the doorway. Reginald took that as his cue to leave.

“Training is dismissed for the day.” And with that, he swept out of the room. Mom looked over Ben first. She frowned but said that Ben would be alright, he just needed rest.

Her frown deepened when she bent down next to Vanya. Luther watched her face go through a series of expressions while her eyes scanned his sister’s leg.

“You did a very good job, honey.” Grace praised Diego.

A thud echoed behind them. Luther peered around Vanya’s head to see Ben sprawled on the floor.

“Klaus!” Allison yelled, holding onto the unconscious boy’s ankles.

Klaus held up his hands in askance.

“Sorry, sorry! He’s a lot heavier than he looks.”

Grace’s customary smile pasted itself back on her face.

“Would you be a dear and help Ben to his bed, Diego, honey?”

Diego hesitated. Luther blinked again. That was a first.

“Yes, mom,” he muttered finally and went over to assist the two. He looked back at Vanya. Luther would have offered to help but… He watched the three stagger out of the gym without further incident.

_Thunk!_

Well almost.

“Klaus!” Allison and Diego scolded.

Klaus hurriedly re-positioned their brother’s head so it wouldn’t slam against the doorway again.

“Okay, that one was my fault.”

Vanya sniffed. Mom and Luther looked down at the noise.

“Oh, sweetie, let’s get you some ibuprofen and then off to bed.” Mom rifled in the medical kit and placed two white pills in Luther’s palm.

“Luther, can you take Vanya to her room and make sure she takes these?” Her smile slipped and she tutted. “I have a feeling your brother is going to need an ice pack.”

Luther hesitated, “What about Vanya’s leg?”

Mom smoothed down the girl’s hair.

“She’ll be fine. Your sister is very strong.”

Luther nodded and stood up, careful not to jostle Vanya’s wound. She cried anyway. Mom left with a promise to come by and change Vanya’s bandages later.

“Pills,” she muttered against his chest. Luther stopped walking, not even out of the training room.

“What?”

“Pills,” she repeated and pulled away from Luther, opening her mouth.

“Oh, right,” he brought up his knee to support Vanya’s weight. With his newly freed hand, he slipped the little pills in her mouth. She swallowed them dry and settled back in her brother’s arms.

Sometime on the way to Vanya’s bedroom she fell asleep; a combination of both the drugs, adrenaline, and pain. Luther carefully placed her on the bed. He looked down at her and felt that warm something intensify, curling uncomfortably hot in his stomach. Vanya looked so fragile, dried tear tracks on her face and her leg a bloody mess even through the bandages.

Luther wanted to stay here, with her, but he knew he couldn’t. Mom would be by soon and he couldn’t risk her telling Sir Reginald if she saw them sleeping next to each other.

And besides, Luther glanced down at his bloodied self, he really needed a shower.

Even with his reasoning Luther still found it difficult to leave Vanya. He closed the his sister’s door with a heavy feeling, hand slipping off her doorknob slowly.

 

* * *

 

 

Luther laid in bed that night seriously contemplating the pros and cons of going to check on Vanya.

“Oh, screw it,” he muttered. Diego would be proud. He swung his legs onto the floor and walked over to open his door. Just as he went to grab the doorknob it began to turn slowly.

Luther felt his heart catch in his throat. What if it was his father coming to check up on him? Luther was about to vault back into his bed when the door opened a bit.

“Luther?” Vanya called quietly. Luther opened the door the rest of the way.

Vanya blinked at him, looking just as surprised as he felt.

“What are you doing out of bed?” They both whispered.

The two blinked in confusion.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Vanya said slowly, “You?”

“Uh,” Luther stammered, too embarrassed to tell her he was on the way to see her. “Same. Couldn’t sleep.”

It wasn’t a lie.

Vanya nodded and then frowned, leaning heavily on the doorway. Luther’s mouth dropped open in an ‘o’.

Her injury.

The warm feeling that had been pestering him sparked back to life. On instinct, he bent down and gently lifted her up. Vanya tensed immediately and Luther contemplated putting her down and apologizing when she relaxed again. Luther deposited her carefully in his bed. He made sure she was comfortable before settling beside her. The warm feeling began to buzz, urging him to move- to do something.

So Luther did the first thing that came to mind. He turned onto his side so he was facing Vanya and very carefully, as if she were made of glass, wrapped his arms around her. It was then that he suddenly remembered the last time he’d ‘hugged’ her. Luther was about to pull away, feeling incredibly lucky that Vanya hadn’t blasted him away, an apology on the tip of his tongue when Vanya made a happy noise in the back of her throat and _snuggled_ into him. She threw one arm over his torso and with the other she grabbed onto his shirt.

Luther felt his throat clog up with emotion.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his eyes moist, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I'm sorry.” He pressed his face into his sister’s hair and continued with the string of apologies. What he was sorry for, he didn’t exactly know- too many wrongs had been committed to keep track of. Sometimes he wished he wasn’t number one, sometimes he wished he was number four or six. “I’m so sorry, Vanya.” His next breath was shaky and he shuddered through a quiet sob.

“It’s okay,” Vanya replied, voice muffled against his chest. “You were just doing what you thought was right.”

“But it’s not okay, it wasn’t _right_ ,” he cried, remembering how vulnerable and utterly broken Vanya had been in his arms that night as she sobbed apology after apology. Not unlike what he was doing now.

But Vanya was kinder than him, so easy to forgive, and she wiggled her arm underneath him to hug him properly.

“Maybe not, but I’m not exactly blameless.” Vanya gripped the back of the blue fabric of Luther’s pajamas. “I hurt Allison. I nearly _killed_ her.” Her voice shook at that last part. Luther pulled her even closer, mindful of her wound.

“But you didn’t.”

“But-”

Luther gently pulled Vanya away so he could look at her. He smiled in the dark and hoped that maybe she can see it like how he could see the tears in her eyes. 

“Let’s just agree that we’re both sorry and go to sleep, okay?”

“Okay.” Vanya said after a moment. Luther allowed her to settle back down.

Vanya sniffed quietly.

Luther, despite his great strength, was extra gentle not to crush her small frame as he hugged her tighter so they were more or less glued together now. Vanya turned her head so her cheek was squished right against his chest. She lets the beat of his heart lull her to sleep.

The warm feeling bloomed like a flower in his chest, enveloping him completely. Even through the hazy, euphoric-like fog, he realized what it was.

_Love. Affection. Protectiveness._

Luther closed his eyes and prayed that no one found them because this was something he wasn't planning on sharing.

 

* * *

 

Luther woke up with a start. He squinted, the morning light coming through his window too bright. He frowned then. He never slept with his curtains open. He yawned and turned his head away from the window.

He let out a startled yelp when Allison’s brown eyes met his blue ones.

“Allison!” He whisper-shouted. She grinned at him and held up a disposable camera.

“Good morning!” She greeted.

_Click!_

Luther blinked blearily as the flash of the camera nearly blinded him. He made to rub his eyes but found he couldn’t move it.

“Ssh!” He whispered fiercely and then looked down to make sure that Vanya was still sleeping. “You’ll wake up Vanya.”

Allison waved her hand, “Psh! That girl could sleep through a hurricane.” On cue, Vanya snuffled and nosed her way into the crook of Luther’s neck. A small snore escaped her mouth.

“Aww, you guys look so adorable.” She cooed. Luther blushed. She held the camera up again. Luther’s face fell morphed from embarrassment to horror.

“Say cheese!” She chirped.

“Please, no Allison, wait a second-"

The click and whir of the camera overrode his pleas. She grinned down at the camera

“I can’t wait to get these developed.”

Luther moaned and hid his face in Vanya’s hair. Allison made some more cooing noises and the mechanical clatter like metal curtains opening and closing filled the room again. Vanya sighed and nestled deeper into the embrace. Luther smiled into her hair.

This was a nice start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Literally wrote this whole chapter while camping out in a Del Taco because I'm poor and have no wifi and tacos duh. Mmm crunchy.


	3. Cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which knife bois are soft and everything is sweet. Literally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *looks at calendar* oh…whoops? Sorry about that, folks. Had a rough case of writer's block. So, here, have some Diego trying to do Feels ™ .

Coming back sucked. Diego couldn’t it put it more eloquently than that, not that he was any good with words to begin with. Being stuck in his tiny, totally _not_ badass kid body sucked.

Diego angrily stomped up the stairs, left arm glued stiffly to his side. Klaus stood at the top of the landing talking animatedly to Ben.

“M-move it.” He growled, shoving past Klaus. Klaus cried out as he toppled forward. Ben reacted quickly and grabbed him before he could topple down the stairs.

“Not cool, Diego,” Ben called after him. Diego paused before restarting his journey back to his room. He just needed to make it there, nap for maybe a week, and then he’d apologize or some shit before Ben got upset. He was trying to be a better brother. Keyword: trying.

“Yeah! It’s called saying ‘excuse me’!” Klaus called after him. “Didn’t your mother teach you any manners, young man?” The medium’s giggles followed after Diego. He rolled his eyes.

"F-fuck off, Klaus," Diego responded and threw the bird at him with his good arm. His stuttering, now stronger than ever, was back and that too sucked.

Oh, and there's the whole bit about their asshole of a father still being alive. Which makes sense considering that they’re in the past but it still sucked like a dick. Just when he thought he was finally free from the man’s omniscient control Vanya just _had_ to go and lose her shit. Now here they were, stuck in the past. Did he mention that it sucked? Yeah? Well, it does.

Diego blew out an angry puff of air and shuffled down the hallway.  It's funny that he should mention her because the biggest pain in his ass right now was said sister. That and the nasty gash in his shoulder.

“Stupid small body and its slow-ass reflexes.” He muttered darkly. He walked sluggishly down the hall, attempting to keep his gait normal and failing miserably. He heard footsteps behind him and tried to hurry along, ignoring how his body screamed at him to do the exact opposite and _just stop and sit down for a quick sec._

Allison passed by him but not without shooting him a concerned look. Diego cursed internally and settled for glaring at her. Allison rolled her eyes fondly and let it go. She entered her room without further incident. Well, at least one of his sisters was alright.

Diego exhaled in relief and continued his trek to his room. He tried to keep his arm as stiff as possible, hoping his other siblings, should he come across more of them, would leave him be. Luckily, it was a Saturday so most of his siblings were off doing their own thing whilst they still have their allotted two hours of free time before dinner. All he had to do was make it to his bedroom where he kept a spare med-kit and he’d be in the clear.

Diego had gotten used to patching himself up over the years. As a vigilante, hospitals were a big no-no seeing as his line of work wasn’t entirely legal. He couldn’t risk the cops connecting his wounds with crimes he’d stopped. Which kinda blew. He didn’t have the same connections the people he busted had; no dishonored medics to stitch him up or underground hospitals to retreat to. It was just him and his dinky little room at the gym.

Diego drew in a shaky breath, eyeballing his room with determination.

_Almost there._

Spots suddenly clouded his vision making him stumble a bit. Diego quickly stopped and leaned against the wall. On second thought, maybe he should have just gone to Mom? He shook his head, willing the white spot to _fuck off_. No, he could handle this. Plus, there was no need to bother Mom for something so minor.

Diego felt his neck warm with shame. He didn’t need her or anybody else finding out that he- Number Two, 'The Kraken', master of all things pointy and shiny- stabbed himself with his own blade. It was more than embarrassing; it was downright _humiliating_. And knowing his siblings they’d milk it out for however long they could get away with.

Klaus was annoying enough already on his own. But if his latest blunder made its way through the grapevine and back to their resident ex-junkie, the little bastard would be unbearable. Especially when backed up by Ben, who turned into an incorrigible little shit when paired with Klaus. It was a recipe for disaster.

“Thank you for the book, Ben,” Vanya said quietly, closing Ben’s door carefully. Vanya turned to go back to her room just as Diego summoned the strength to walk. She stumbled back with a squeak when she slammed into his shoulder.

The same shoulder that was currently oozing a steady stream of blood under his jacket. Diego bit back a shout. Vanya’s hands reached out for something to grab onto as she fell backward.

_Oh, crap, Vanya! Quick!_

Acting on reflex, Diego snatched her outstretched wrist with his good arm and hauled her back up. He moved his hand up her arm, resting it on her shoulder to steady her. Vanya was quick to get her bearings and Diego let go, moving subtly to put pressure on the wound in his shoulder. Pain shot down his arm. The spot beneath his hand warm and wet.

Vanya blinked, glancing at his shoulder for a split second before she looked up at him, her doe eyes wide and so _open_. He looked away quickly. She shouldn’t be looking at him like that. Like he’d saved her from near death and not just from a nasty bump on the head.

“I’m so sorry, Diego, I wasn’t-”

“Watch wh-where you’re going!” Diego interrupted harshly, his shoulder screaming at him to get a move on. Vanya took a step back and hunched her shoulders, retreating inwards. Something unpleasant writhed in his stomach, but he made no move to take the words back. She ducked her head under his glare so her bangs covered her face.

“Right. I’m sorry. I’ll just go.” Diego felt a twinge of guilt at seeing her so easily cowed. Outwardly he scowled and continued on his way to his room without another word. He swallowed heavily and willed the guilt to shrivel up and die already.

It didn’t.

Allison watched him from her doorway. She shook her head, disappointed, and walked over to where he’d left Vanya. Diego heard his name, the word ‘jerk’, and a “…going downstairs for some cookies, want to come?”

He slammed his door closed before he could hear Vanya’s response.

He flopped on his bed and groaned, embracing the flash of pain if it meant erasing the steadily rising guilt building up inside him. Unwittingly, the image of Vanya shrinking back into herself resurfaced. Diego grabbed his pillow and pressed it hard against his face. He held it there until the need to breathe blared in the back of his mind. Good thing he didn’t need to breathe. He ignored it and held the pillow tighter, knuckles turning white and blood trickling down his shoulder and onto the bed. He’d wash the sheets later.

“This _sucks_ ,” He muttered and threw the pillow aside. It smacked loudly against the wall. He turned his head and was met with his sister’s worried face.

“Holy sh-!” Diego shouted and sat up quickly. Only to stop mid curse when his shoulder throbbed painfully. He flopped back onto the bed suddenly feeling very light-headed.

“Diego!” Vanya gasped. She closed the door shut behind before walking over to him.

_Good_. Diego mused absently. Vanya had always had a good head on her shoulders, very conscientious of her surroundings and everyone in it. Until she up and wrote that damned book.

Diego tried to blink away the fog clouding his vision.

“...iego? Can you hear me? Diego?” Vanya called, voice steadily rising in her panic. He grunted in acknowledgment before she could alert anybody. Which was the last thing he wanted. Right after having her here.

He heard her give a shaky sigh in relief. And then there were small hands on him, delicately flitting over his torso as they searched for the source of the blood. Diego weakly pushed at her hands.

“Get out, ‘anya,” he muttered, “'m fine.” His sight cleared and he startled with how close Vanya was. Diego watched as her face scrunched up in that way she did when she was thinking hard about something, her eyes flitting everywhere but his face. Diego huffed in irritation. Suddenly he found himself the object of her heavy gaze. He cleared his throat and looked away. Okay, she was way too close. Diego would have blushed if it wasn’t for the fact that all his blood was rushing elsewhere: like to his vital organs and whatnot.

“No,” she whispered. Vanya leaned back, giving him space, and nodded, her mind made up. Before Diego could blow out a sigh of relief she looked back at him. Her normally soft and demure countenance disappeared, replaced by thin lips and a hard resolve in her eyes.

_When did she grow a backbone?_ An image of Vanya, eyes white and radiating power, came to mind. _Oh yeah._ Diego would have admired his little sister’s newfound confidence further if it wasn’t for the fact he was bleeding out on his bed.

“No,” Vanya repeated, “I’m not leaving and you are not fine.”

Diego scowled. Looked like he wasn’t getting rid of her anytime soon. Diego closed his eyes.

“Med-kit. Bed. Underneath.” He bit out reluctantly. He opened his eyes to see Vanya drop down to her knees. She dug around for a second before jumping back up, the first-aid kit in her hands.

Diego was too tired to protest when she started removing the layers of his uniform, pushing aside his clothing. Diego resigned himself to merely watching his sister as she worked above him. Her hair slipped down her shoulders and onto his face. It tickled his nose. Diego struggled not to sneeze.

Vanya made a sound of distress, her face paling.

“What?” Diego asked, feeling more alert now. Vanya looked at him and then back at his shoulder.

“It’s, um, going to need stitches.” She bit her lip and looked at him. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take to Mom? She can do a better job-”

“ _No!_ ” Diego hissed. Vanya’s mouth clicked shut in surprise. Diego swallowed and allowed his expression to soften. “No, I w-w-want you to do it. I trust you.”

He really did. Trust her, that is. Even after that shit show that was her book, where she’d thrown the most vulnerable and fragile parts of himself out for the vultures pick and devour, he still trusted her.

She was his sister, after all. And if he couldn’t trust his sister then who could he trust?

Vanya’s eyes widened and an emotion too fast for him to catch flickered across her face. Her face smoothed out and she looked like she did before, still worried yet calmer, focused. Diego felt something small and hard press against his mouth before he could question her.

“For the pain,” Vanya explained. Diego moved his head in a nod and swallowed the pill, shaking his head at the water bottle Vanya offered him. Where she got it from, he didn’t know.

He listened to her rustling around in the med-kit. Soon his eyes began to feel heavy and the pain had all but disappeared, the drugs kicking in. Diego closed his eyes. Sweat trickled down his forehead and behind his ear as he tried not to imagine the needle. “Can you feel this?” Vanya asked and pinched his sternum. Diego opened his eyes.

He licked his lips nervously, “N-not really.” Vanya nodded and began prepping the needle.

Diego looked away, like the gentleman their mom had raised him to be, when Vanya leaned over him, her chest close enough that he could hear her heartbeat. Or was that his own? Diego squeezed his eyes closed and focused on his breathing and not the tug of the needle going through his skin.

The smell of blood and antiseptic were slowly replaced by something else. It smelled like wood, the soap in the bathroom, paper, and something sweet. Not like their mother, who always smelled like gentle flowers and sugar. It was more organic, natural like... honey?

_Vanya,_ his mind supplied

It was comforting in its familiarity. Vanya’s always smelled like honey. Diego felt nostalgia sweep over him, threatening to blow him away like a stray newspaper in the street. A vague memory of flowers, bees lazily buzzing around, and sunshine popped up.

“I’m done.” Vanya announced. Diego opened his eyes. She wrapped his shoulder quickly and stepped away from him, taking the scent (and memory) away with her. A whine slipped past his lips before he could stop it.

Vanya squeaked, “I’m sorry! Did I hurt you? Are you hurt somewhere else?” Diego was about to deny it when he felt those same hands- calloused yet smooth and gentle (kinda like Vanya)- frantically prodding his sides, his legs and then skimming near enough his groin to make him actually blush this time.

“’ey! _‘eeey,_ ” he slurred, pushing Vanya gently with his feet, “It’s just mah shoul’er.”

Vanya popped back into view. She still looked worried. “Are you sure?”

Diego rolled his eyes. Partly to show his exasperation and partly to avoid her gaze.

“Yesh, ’m shore,” he slurred. He tried to push himself up. “Now go ‘way. Ah need a nap.” Vanya paid him no heed. She helped him rearrange himself more comfortably on the bed, taking his shoes off. Diego frowned but allowed it. He closed his eyes. His head felt like it was full of cotton and his chest felt really warm. Relief flooded him when he heard his door open and then shut close. Finally. Now he could sleep in peace.

Diego was about to drift off again when he heard the door open and close again. Something soft and smelling very much like Vanya settled atop him. He opened his eyes halfway. He watched Vanya cover him a fluffy blue blanket, her hair falling forwards again and shining gold in the dying sun that streamed through his window. Diego’s fingers twitched. He wondered if it felt as soft as it looked. He frowned. How come his hair wasn’t nice like hers if they all used the same shampoo?

He looked at her in confusion when she propped a pillow against the wall by his feet and sat down.

“Ah said go ’way,” he mumbled. Vanya pulled out a book and made herself comfortable.

“I know.” She said simply and started reading. Diego made a disgruntled sound and closed his eyes. Later he would blame the medication for how easily he fell asleep. It definitely had nothing to do with how toasty his feet was, tucked underneath Vanya or the calming scent of honey steadily filling his room.

* * *

 

Grace was humming some random tune as she went about her business tidying up the mansion. Diego peered from around the corner of the doorway as Grace flitted here and there all the while looking the very picture of some 50’s Disney cartoon.

Mom stopped at one of the end tables. She frowned down at the decorative vase there, tapping her chin. She reached over and moved it a little to the left. Diego watched as she contemplated the vase. A little smile upturned her lips and she nodded to herself in satisfaction before reaching up to dust the portrait hanging above it.

It was these little, seemingly insignificant moments that solidified Diego’s belief in their mother. That she was real; that what she displayed were _real_ , honest to god, emotions. Which for a machine shouldn’t be possible, but, well, here they were.

Diego cleared his throat loudly, announcing his presence, and walked into the foyer. Grace turned at the sound. A beatific smile graced her face when she saw him. 

“Diego, sweetheart,” her expression shifted and her voice took on a teasing tone, “how long have you been standing there, hm?” Diego cleared his throat again, his neck and cheeks hot.

“Not long, Mom.” He replied awkwardly. Grace tutted and walked over to him.

“It’s not polite to spy on people, you know.” She chided but patted his cheek affectionately. Diego thanked Five again for the thousandth time for whatever he’d done to Mom’s code. It was subtle, a slight shift in code, a few restrictions overridden and erased. Five was no tech genius, but he was a _genius_ and programming was just a different branch of mathematics Diego knew. Five had assured them all (quite enough times at Diego’s insistence until Five got fed up and told them all that yes, he was a bastard, but he wasn't a _heartless_ bastard) that it’d take years for Pogo and even Reginald to notice anything amiss with her code. And by then they'd be gone. Mom too because like hell Diego was leaving her here to rot a second time.

To tell a long story short: Mom was _free_. And she knew it; it was only right to tell her. Five had sat her down and patiently (boy was that trip because Five and patience did not mix. Ever.) explained to her what he would do and what effects it would have. Grace had been confused. She’d never been given a choice before. If something was wrong with her or she needed a few touch-ups Pogo and Reginald would just do them. To be given a choice was…confusing. But along with the confusion was something else, something that made her chassis warm despite her ventilators working perfectly fine.

And so Grace had agreed, even if she looked unsure because she trusted her babies. And so she was free. She could have left, gone to those places she’d admired from her paintings and left them all. But she didn’t. She’d stayed for them. Despite all the lines of codes and her very nature telling her that she couldn’t; wasn’t capable, she loved them. Diego was sure of it just as he was sure that the sky was blue and the grass was green.

“Was there something you needed?” Mom asked kindly, folding her hands primly in front of her, duster clasped in her hands like a bride would hold a bouquet.

Diego nodded. “Yeah. I n-need some advice.” Grace’s eyes widened in surprise but her smile did not waver.

“With what, dear?” _With Vanya_. He wanted to say. _Because I know shit about being a brother, much less a good one._ But Diego couldn’t say that, the words wouldn’t leave his mouth and for once he couldn’t blame his stutter for it.

Diego tried to tell her nonetheless.

“I-I need help with- I just w-want to, uh,” Diego cursed in his head as he struggled to express himself. Mom waited patiently. “I want to m-m-make something.” Diego finally spat out. “For Vanya.” He said the last bit quietly, barely a whisper, but Grace’s enhanced hearing caught it clear as day.

Her smiled softened. “That sounds lovely, Diego.” Mom said kindly. “Very thoughtful of you.”

“Thanks,” said Diego bashfully. He ducked his head to hide the red he knew was coating his cheeks.

Mom stood up a little straighter as she went over her schedule for the day. They could whip up something in the kitchen now and, if they hurried, be done in time for dinner. Plus, she could always finish up the dusting tomorrow. Grace surveyed the room for a moment. It’s not like there was a lot of dust to begin with considering how thorough she was with the housework.

Mom led them to the kitchen. Diego followed after her.

“Did you have anything specific in mind that you wanted to make?” She asked as they walked.

_Oh shit_ , Diego thought, totally not stumbling on nothing. Grace ignored his stumble with grace. _What the hell does Vanya even like?_ He knows she eats; they all do, I mean, they’re human too and everybody had to eat. Even thier father, who the Hargreeves were more or less convinced he was an alien.

However, the only thing Diego knew how to make were cookies n’ crap. Yes, he’d enlisted Mom’s help but he’d be damned if he made her do all the work. _Wait. Does Vanya even like sweets?_ Diego cursed in his head again. Oh lord, he was an idiot.

Grace sighed to herself. She loved her kids; she knew that she did. But they could a tad difficult at times. Alas, there was no one to blame for that except maybe Sir Reginald and herself because for years she’d just watched as her master tore down and broke the very children she’d been created to nurture and protect.

Grace loved them all the same, flaws and all. It’s just Diego, her darling little boy, could be a little… _thick_ sometimes. Especially when it came to his siblings and how to deal with them.

“How about some cookies?” Grace looked down and resisted the urge to sigh, even if it was fondly. Diego’s relief was practically palpable. “The animal-shaped ones are her favorites.” Diego smothered his laugh with a cough because _oh my god that is so dorky and just **so** Vanya_.

“They are?”

Grace nodded and winked at him, “I know all of your favorites.” Diego felt his chest warm at that.

 Mom began moving around, pulling out the required utensils while instructing Diego what ingredients to pull from the fridge before getting started on preparing that evening’s dinner.

Diego has helped Mom bake before so things went smoothly, both working in tandem on their own culinary projects. Until it was time to shape the dough, that was.

“What a cute elephant!” Grace praised, looking down at the tray.

Diego’s face soured. “It’s supp-posed to be a dog.”

“Oh,” Grace’s smile faltered before brightening up again. “It’s a very cute dog, then.” She amended. Diego groaned and hung his head. Grace patted his shoulder in sympathy. She’d help if she could but Diego had insisted on doing it himself. And Diego was nothing but stubborn.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she said gently, “I don’t think Vanya will mind. After all, it’s the thought that counts.”

_…which is exactly the kind of Gandhi crap people try to sell when you’ve really messed up_ , Diego thought grumpily. Diego let out another groan and let his head drop onto the counter.

Grace tried again, “I promise Vanya will appreciate especially if it came from you.”

Diego turned his head and looked up at her. “Promise?” He asked, feeling childish, but needing the reassurance too much to care. Mom pressed a gentle kiss to the spot of flour decorating his forehead.

“Of course she will, honey.” She said it with such a simple, honest conviction that Diego couldn’t bring himself to challenge it. Not that he ever would. Mom was way smarter about these things, always whenever it came to things like feelings. Diego accepted her words and tried again.

“Okay, let’s try this again.” He  cracked his fingers and reached for another ball of cookie dough. Grace hummed, satisfied she'd cheered him up, and went off to check on the sauce.

In the end, Diego managed to make a few decent looking cookies. Although the number of deformed, burnt ones far exceeded them but that was nobody’s business but his own. He'd tried, damn it!

“Do I smell cookies?” Klaus’ voice sing-songed from the doorway. He immediately made a beeline towards the kitchen table where the cookies were cooling down. “ _Ooooh_ , I was right. Mom’s cookies. Yummy.” Klaus reached out only for Diego to slap his hand away.

“ _Ow!_ ” Klaus yelped. “What gives, Diego?”

“They’re not for you, shi-” Diego’s gaze flickered over to Mom who was pulling out the garlic bread from the oven, “-iiiiinuazer..?”

“Schnauzer?” Klaus repeated with an incredulous laugh. “Why, _mein bruder_ , if you wanted to call me a bitch you could have said so.” '

“Language, Klaus.” Mom tutted from across the kitchen.

“Sorry, mom.” Klaus apologized with an impish grin. He turned back to Diego. He leaned against the table, cradling his face in his hands. “So...who are the cookies for?”

Diego frowned, “It’s none of your business.”

Klaus continued, “A special someone? Hoping to woo a fair maiden with your bountiful fruit?”

“ _No!_ ” Diego said and he knew he said it too quickly when Klaus cooed and leaned in further. Diego made a frustrated noise and turned around.

“Who are they for?”

“They’re for nobody.” _Nobody_. The felt like ash in his mouth.

“Nobody, huh?” Klaus tried to make another grab at a cookie just out Diego’s line of sight. “Then I’m sure nobody would mind- _ow_! What’s with the slapping today?”

“Diego,” Mom chided quietly.

Diego pointed at his brother, “Klaus started it!”

Klaus was quick to point back. “True, but Diego's the one who slapped me!”

“He keeps tr-trying to eat the cookies!”

“Boys, behave.” Grace looked at them once and that was all it took to get a mumbled pair of apologies and promises to behave.

A beat of silence and then: “So, do I know her? Him?” Diego looked heavenward and prayed some Final Destiny type crap to happen so his brother would just _shut up_.

“Drop it,” Diego warned.

“Don’t be a spoilsport, Diego,” Klaus complained. Diego walked over to the cabinets and grabbed a plate. Klaus eyed the cookies and decided against trying to make another grab. He didn’t really think they were worth losing a finger however how nice they smelled.

“No.”

“C’mon, tell _meeee_.” Diego put the plate down on the table and began carefully placing the nicest looking cookies onto it. Klaus stuck his face in front of Diego’s, having climbed atop the table to sit on it. “You can tell me. I pinky-promise I won’t tell.” Diego ignored him, choosing to focus on the task at hand and not on strangling his brother. Klaus craned his neck, studying the slightly lopsided animal-shaped cookies.

“Wait a second…” Klaus murmured. A slow grin grew on his face. Diego glanced at him and then back the cookies. He swallowed nervously. “Are these for- no way, don’t tell me- are these for little number Seven?”

“ _Klaus_ ,” Diego growled. Klaus’ face positively lit up. He giggled excitedly.

“They are for Vanya, aren't they?” Klaus clapped his hands. “I knew it! Did you make Vanya her favorite cookies? That’s so _sweet_!”

Diego’s face burned with embarrassment, “S-shut up.” But Klaus didn’t shut up. Not that Diego expected him to.

“Aww look at Diego. He’s blushing.” Diego pulled out a knife and threw it right between Klaus’ legs. The boy squeaked.

“Diego,” Mom scolded. Diego whipped his head in her direction, having forgotten she was there. “We’ve talked about this. No throwing knives at your brother outside of training.”

“Sorry, mom,” Diego mumbled. 

“Now go and wash up. Dinner will be served in ten minutes.” Grace threw a pointed look at Klaus. The boy smiled sheepishly. “Both of you.”

Diego fidgeted. “What about the cookies?”

Grace’s stern expression lightened. “You can give them to Vanya after dinner.” Diego glanced towards Klaus. Mom followed his gaze and smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure a certain somebody doesn’t eat them.”

Klaus slumped and slid off the table, mindful of the knife.

“No fair.” He complained. “How comes Vanya gets cookies.” Diego rolled his eyes and grabbed the bowl of rejected cookies.

“Here, crybaby, you can have these ones.” Klaus cheered and ran off with the bowl before Mom could tell him to save them for after dinner. Diego rolled his eyes again and smiled at her.

“Thanks again, mom, for, the, uh, help.” Grace patted his cheek affectionately.

“Anytime, dear. Now go wash up.” She wiped some flour off his cheek and showed him. Diego flushed and darted up the stairs.

* * *

 

Diego swallowed for what felt like the umpteenth time. He could do this. Diego nodded his head, Yeah, he could totally do this. It was simple. All he had to do was knock, give her the cookies, and then walk back to his room. He didn’t even need to talk!

Diego took a deep breath.

“It’s just Vanya,” he muttered to himself. Diego froze as he caught the sound of Vanya shuffling in her room. The noise stopped and Diego was back to standing in the darkened hallway like a creep. “It’s just Vanya,” he repeated. Nodding to himself, Diego lifted his hand and knocked quietly, hoping no one would hear.

Diego held his breath and listened to the sound of Vanya’s footfalls on the wooden floor as she walked to the door. It opened with a small squeak.

Vanya squinted at him in the low lighting.

“Diego?” She asked once her eyes had adjusted. Once Diego saw her face it was like a bolt of electricity had hit him, all his nerves firing off at once. Diego shoved the plate towards her, the cookies clattering loudly in the silence.

“Here,” He said gruffly. Vanya had no choice but to grab it lest the plate fall to the floor.

“Diego? What’s going-” Diego didn’t let her finish. He spun on his heel and all but ran back to his room, face hotter than the fires his blades were forged in. He closed his door and leaned against. Diego grinned and slumped down to the floor.

_Mission success. Fuck yeah._ Diego stood back up, legs wobbly from the small burst of adrenaline. He chucked off his clothes and put on pajamas. Diego climbed into bed with a feeling of victory  that only came from punching a bad guy or beating Luther at something.

Diego closed his eyes.

_...I wonder if she liked them._ His eyes snapped opened. _Oh shit_. _What if she doesn’t like them?_ Diego swore. He didn’t get a chance to test them, distracted by Klaus and his amateur interrogation. _What if they taste horrible? Fuckfuckfuckfuck-_

Diego was pulled out of his out his panic by his door shaking. Now, his door required a little extra juice, so to say, to get it open once it was closed after a prank gone wrong involving Klaus (no surprise), some string, a tray of ice cubes, and Luther’s super strength. It had mangled his doorknob. Which suited Diego just fine, even if it was a little annoying at times. It was like his own burgular alarm and helped soothe his paranoia

Awful for sneaking out. And for sneaking in, it seemed...the door opened a crack.

“Diego?” Vanya’s voice called meekly.

Diego shot up. “V-vanya?” he answered back. Vanya’s head poked through. Diego didn’t try to stop her as she tip-toed inside. Diego cleared his throat. “What do you w-want?” He asked, trying to keep the bite of his tone. It worked. Vanya shuffled closer and held up the still full plate of cookies.

“I just wanted to thank you. For the cookies. I didn’t get the chance to, you left so quickly.” Diego flushed at the reminder.

“Uh, sure, no problem.” A slightly awkward silence filled the space between them as Vanya shifted nervously by his bed. Diego frowned, “Is there something else you want to say or…?” Vanya jumped at his voice but he saw her nod.

“Um, yeah, I was wondering if you wanted to maybe, maybe we could eat them...together?”

“But they’re for you.”

Vanya bit her lip. “You kinda made a lot.”

“Oh.” He was grateful for the dark because he does not remember being this blushy when he was younger. “Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. I really like them.” A pause. “They’re really cute. Thank you.”

Diego swore he was going to be the first person to spontaneously combust from embarrassment.

“Do...do you want to eat the cookies? With me.” Not trusting his voice, Diego nodded, hoping Vanya could see it in the dark. She could.

Diego heard Vanya take in a shaky breath as she closed the door behind. It closed with its usual difficulty. Diego scooted over so she could sit next to him, their backs against the wall. And so that’s how Number Two found himself eating animal cookies with Number Seven at one in the morning.

“Did you know?” Vanya asked, swallowing down her fifth cookie. Diego didn’t bother swallowing, speaking around a mouthful.

“Know wha’?”

“That these are favorite?” Well, he didn’t at first, but he wasn’t going to tell his sister that.

“Yes,” He replied. He grabbed another cookie and shoved it in his mouth. Vanya yawned.

“I didn’t think anybody knew...or cared.” She finished quietly.

“We care, Vanya,” Diego said, voice somber and low. He turned to look at her. “You know that right?”

Vanya didn’t meet her eyes but she did reply, “I do now, but I didn’t before. Not for a long time.” Diego suddenly felt ill. Must be all the cookies he’d just eaten.

Diego doesn’t know if it was the cover of darkness or if it was how utterly sad and vulnerable Vanya sounded that made him do it. Because Diego’s not a touchy-feely guy; he’s not the kind of guy who farts birdsong and has rainbows bleeding out his ears. He leaves that shit to Allison or Klaus.

Either way, Diego opened his arms.

“C’mere, V,” he said softly. There was a moment where Diego thought Vanya would reject him, arms held up for an achingly long minute, but Vanya was suddenly pressed up against his chest like a very needy kitten, leaving him a bit winded with the force of her hug as she wrapped her small arms around him. Diego closed his eyes and reached to smooth down her hair.

Huh. It was soft. Like baby grass and flower petals.

* * *

 

“..go. Um, Diego? Are you awake?”

Diego groaned, willing the voice to go away. The exact opposite happened. The voice was now more insistent.

“Diego? Diego? Can you, um, are you awake?”

Why did it sound so familiar? Diego opted to ignore it. Maybe it’d go away. He squeezed his pillow. His pillow let out a squeak. Diego frowned. What the hell? Pillows don’t squeak. Again, Diego made an executive choice and ignored it. Yesterday had been downright tiring. And on top of it, he’d used his precious free time baking cookies for Vanya.

Wait.

Diego opened his eyes and once again found himself face to face with Vanya. Except this time she was considerably closer. Like a bible’s page away. It took a lot longer than he was comfortable admitting to wake up and process the situation.

“‘anya?” He slurred. Vanya let out a sigh of relief.

“Oh good, you’re awake.” She wiggled a bit. Diego looked down. Vanya was sandwiched between him and the wall, her arms tucked against his chest with how tightly he was holding her against him. “I really, really have to go to the bathroom.” Diego blinked stupidly. Her forehead creased. “Do you think you can let me go?” Vanya asked hesitantly. She wiggled again to emphasize her request.

And then all at once Diego’s brain finally finished booting up. Diego quickly pulled his arms away, twisting Vanya’s shirt and nearly taking his arms out his sleeves in his haste.

“S-s-sorry!” Diego sprang back. His foot got caught in the blanket and he cursed as he fell to the floor. Diego grunted and opened his eyes only for the edge of the forgotten cookie plate to land on the bridge of his nose. Diego moaned in pain as the plate continued its descent, clattering innocently on the floor.

Vanya’s head popped out over the side of the bed. “Diego? Are you okay?” Diego rolled over to hide his face. He stood up stiffly and nodded. He heard Vanya get up. “Are you sure?” She asked. Thankfully she kept her distance. Diego nodded again. He ducked his head. If they were in some old-timey cartoon he’d be on fire, steam coming out of his ears.

“Okay, then. I’ll, uh, just go.” Vanya jiggled the doorknob. “Thank you for the cookies.” Diego’s head jerked. A sound like a whale dying escaped his mouth instead of the ‘sure’ he was trying to go for. The minute the door jammed back closed Diego ran over to his bed and pressed his face against his pillow and screamed.

_God_ , he was never going to live this down.

* * *

 

Diego stared at the ceiling in his room. He turned over and looked at the clock.

_1:29am_ It blinked back.

Diego grabbed his pillow and grumbled into it. He wished Allison had never chewed them out. If she hadn’t then Diego wouldn’t be feeling so freaking awkward around the smallest Hargreeves. He’d been trying to be nicer because, yes, he’d a big enough boy to admit he’d been acting like an asshole.

Nonetheless, ever since that night they’d fallen asleep eating cookies and he’d cuddled Vanya- because that’s what happened, he’d cuddled his sister like some kind of octopus demon- he just couldn’t think straight. One look at her had his face hot with shame and embarrassment.

Diego was Number Two. The freaking 'Kraken'. Bad guys shat their pants when they saw him. Well not anymore but they would. He was a badass no matter the timeline. He wasn’t supposed to be a _cuddler_.

The only one who’d known was Eudora. Maybe Mom, but she didn't care for labels or all that other toxic masculinity that Klaus was always talking about. None of his siblings were supposed to know, was his point. But now Vanya knew. The same Vanya who’d blabbed all their deepest, darkest secrets for the world to read and dissect.

Diego was waiting for the day that Klaus came up to him with something stupid like, “So are you a little spoon or a big spoon?” or Allison to comment, “Diego, I never knew you were a cuddler.” or worse- the looks Luther would inevitably give him.

Diego waited and waited. And yet, the day never came.

And if that wasn't enough, Diego actually missed it. The feel of something soft and warm pressed up against. How could he miss something he’d hardly ever had?

Diego had asked Mom for some extra pillows. He’d hoped that would satisfy his need to hold to something. It didn’t; it just wasn’t the same.

Diego started when his door shook and then opened an inch.

“Diego?” Vanya whispered.

Shoot him now.

“Yeah?” Diego gave himself a mental pat on the back when his voice didn’t crack. Vanya stepped more into view.

“Did I wake you up?”

“N-no.”

“Oh.” The dark blob, which he presumed was Vanya and not some fifth dimension creature, shifted restlessly.

“Wh-what do you want, Vanya?” Diego doesn’t know what he was expecting but he can’t say the answer surprised him. He wanted the same thing.

“To sleep.”

Diego sighed, “And you can’t do that in your own room?”

Vanya shifted again, “No.”

_You know what_. Diego thought. _Fuck it_. Everybody already thought him a mama's boy (which he was, he admits proudly), one more thing couldn’t hurt. At least not as much as his knife slicing through anyone who’d dare bring it up.

“Well then get over h-here.” Diego scooted over to make space for Vanya between him and the wall. When Vanya didn’t move Diego growled, “Vanya, it’s almost two in the morning and we have to get up at six. So move it.” Diego could make out Vanya nodding. She walked over and tried to gently nudge him so she could lie beside him. “No. You go against the wall.”

“Oh, um, okay.” Vanya carefully climbed over, squeaking out an apology when her knee dug into his leg.

“You better not push me off the bed,” Diego warned and made sure Vanya and himself were properly covered.

“I won’t,” Vanya promised. The bed creaked as she made herself comfortable. Diego took in a deep breath. His room was beginning to smell like honey. The heat emanating from his sister was almost uncomfortable and it took more willpower than Diego liked to keep from grabbing her.

“And keep to your s-side.” Diego flipped onto his side so his back was to Seven. “So n-no cuddling. I don’t do cuddling.”

Vanya stilled behind him,“...okay?” She started moving again. She tugged on the blanket. Diego sighed inaudibly. “Why do you have so many pillows?”

“I don’t like sleeping by the wall.” He lied smoothly. “Too cold.” Vanya accepted his explanation without comment. Finally, she stopped moving. Diego was both thankful and disgruntled to find a pillow wedged in between them.

“G’night, Diego.”

Diego felt his body relax at Vanya’s voice.

“Yeah, ‘night, V.” 

* * *

 

Alarm bells were ringing in the back of his head as Diego woke up all at once, the fog of sleep blown away in a heartbeat. His eyes immediately went to the door: the only exit and entrance.

Nothing out of the ordinary there.

Diego then looked at the clock next to his bed.

_5:45am_

Well, he might as well get up. Diego made to move but found that he couldn’t. He looked down and was seized by a brief flare of panic before a wave of warmth soothed it over. Vanya was wrapped in her favorite blanket, brought over from her room, and snuggly tucked against him.

Vanya had taken to sneaking into his room after their first two successful ‘sleepovers’ with startling frequency. At least he’d be startled if he didn’t like them so damn much.

The ‘no cuddling rule’ had been promptly thrown out the window after the second night when Diego had woken up strapped to Vanya like a human parachute.

“I thought you didn’t cuddle.” Vanya had teased that morning.

“S-shut up.” Diego had replied with no real bite. He buried face in her neck and let Vanya’s familiar scent distract him from his embarrassment. Vanya giggled at the sensation and Diego found himself smiling.

Diego sighed and settled back against Vanya. They still had fifteen minutes before their alarms all rang. There was no need to rush.

And so Diego laid there and tried not to think about anything other than the feel of his little sister sleeping soundly in his arms. Diego saw the exact moment Vanya woke up. It was quickly becoming his favorite thing. Vanya twisted around till she was facing him. Next, her nose scrunched up in that way that Diego totally did not think was cute. Lastly, her eyes blinked open ever so slowly, seeking him out.

“Good mornin’, Diego.” She yawned. She stretched against him, not unlike a cat against a scratching post. Diego bit back a grin.

“Mornin’, V.”

Vanya finished stretching and sleepily blinked up at him. Diego felt his chest constrict at the sight of her. She was so happy and content; she was practically glowing. Diego squinted. Actually, she was glowing.

The number Seven from their original childhood, if he looked back, was nothing like this. She’d been so empty and dull that Diego had originally thought it was because she didn’t care. ~~_But she did, she cared so much, so much it’d destroyed her and the world._ ~~

Diego subconsciously tightened his grip. Vanya squirmed a bit but didn’t say anything.

They had been close once. A time before their powers had manifested and they were still _children_. If they ever were children, that was, because Diego had never felt like a child.

Little number Seven had always been so patient with him. While the others grew impatient, she’d wait for him to find the right words and never once teased him when they came out warped and garbled. Diego remembered how with Vanya he could relax. There was no competition, no fighting for attention even though she craved for it. With her, he was just plain 'ol Diego. Not Number Two, "The Kraken", or Diego Hargreeves the police academy dropout. He was just Diego- her brother.

They’d drifted apart after their training was increased and Diego was much too busy vying for their father’s approval to seek out lowly number Seven. Whatever scraps that still tethered them together were cut once her book came out. But loathe as he was to admit, a lot of the things she’d said about them- about him- were true. Bitter truths that he’d spent years trying to drown. Diego had reacted the only way he knew how when he was hurt or upset: anger.

And it was so easy to be angry at Vanya. She made it so easy. Despite the way she’d shrunk in on herself and cried when he’d first confronted her, it was simpler to remind himself of her betrayal; to see it as a jab at them instead of their father and how cruelly he’d treat them all.

“I don’t h-hate you, you know.” Diego blurted. “You know that right?” Vanya’s whole body jerked to stop like she’d been electrocuted. Diego worried that his sister had gone into shock or something. _Shit._ He was always saying the wrong thing-

“You don’t?” The tentative hope in her voice nearly broke his heart. Diego swallowed roughly. He tried to play it cool with a nonchalant ‘nah’ and failed miserably his voice warbling. Diego shifted awkwardly when Vanya didn’t look away, unknowingly pulling her closer. Vanya braced her wrists against his chest not wanting to lose his gaze.

Diego tried again, “I was m-mad and hurt, but,” he licked his lips but didn’t dare look away. He needed her to believe him, couldn’t have her thinking he hated her- quite the opposite actually.

“I never meant to hurt you. Any of you.” Vanya whispered, hand above his heart. Diego let his breath fan across her hair. He knew that now.

“I know.”

A few months ago he’d had never said any of this shit. Gone to the grave and all that crap, but now? Now he understood. Vanya had been just as messed up and broken as the rest of them. She’d lashed out in the only way she could- with her words.

Diego inhaled deeply and allowed for this moment of vulnerability to play out. He could trust Vanya. He could, he _would._

Diego mustered all his courage and pressed his lips to her forehead. Vanya tensed and then settled, muscles loose and soft like butter. Vanya wedged her face in the space between his neck and shoulder.

“You know I l-love you, right?” He mumbled against her hair, face beet red. His head jostled up and down as Vanya nodded.

Diego closed his eyes. All this chick-flick stuff was exhausting. Not to mention mortifying. He was about to fall back asleep when Vanya’s voice broke through the quiet.

“Diego?”

“What?”

“I love you too.”

Diego smiled goofily, not giving two shits whether Vanya could see him or not because _his little sister told him she loved him._ Before he could respond he heard something rustle below him. Diego opened his eyes fully.

“What the-” He began but was interrupted by his alarm clock doing its best impression of a doomsday siren. Vanya broke free from his grip and clambered out of his bed. She held out her hand to him. She grinned, eyes light and cheeks flushed pink.

“C’mon, Diego,” she beckoned, “Maybe if we get down early enough we can help Mom make breakfast and she can make us those smiley pancakes.” The strange noise was instantly forgotten at the mention of their mother. Diego took her proffered hand and allowed her to pull him up.

“Sure.”

Maybe coming back didn’t suck after all.


End file.
